I Hate You
by SubmissiveJayden
Summary: FACE Family, modern day AU. Alfred and Matthew behave poorly at school, leading to Arthur and Francis having to be more strict with them. Alfred learns that words can hurt worse than a punishment. WARNING: Contains non-consensual spanking of minors. Spankfic.


Francis had been at his whit's end for the past few hours. Arthur had been away for work and had left the twins solely with Francis. Francis was used to the pair and the shenanigans that they got into. Today was different. Today, more than usual, they were both being a pain.

The day hadn't gotten off on the right foot. Two hours after Arthur and Francis had dropped Matthew and Alfred off at school, they had gotten a call from the principal asking for them to come back in. Both Arthur and Francis had meetings that day, but Francis was able to shift his schedule around and reschedule his meetings for the next day.

When Francis came to collect his children, he was informed that the twins had started a paint throwing war in art class. When the other children saw Alfred and Matthew throwing paint at one another, they all decided to jump into the fun. The war had started out over a simple, long forgotten argument, but turned into a blast for the pre-teens. Now they both stood in the hallway of the school, waiting to be scolded by their father.

Francis listened to the tale before he signed his children out for the day. Francis turned to Alfred and Matthew and scoffed at the sight. They were covered head to toe in various colours of paint. He waged a finger at the pair. "Most uncivilized. Just wait till we get home." The twins bowed their heads at their impending doom.

Francis luckily had some beach towels stowed in the trunk of his car that he could lay out for the boys. "You better not get a lick of paint on the seats." He warned as he ushered the boys inside. Francis caught the sound of a groan. If he would have known which twin had made the noise, he probably would have swatted them there, in the school parking lot.

Once they were all buckled in, Francis started to drive toward their house. "I want you both to bathe yourselves until there isn't a trace of paint left, as soon as we get home."

It was Alfred that openly scoffed. "Mattie and I share a bathroom. We can't both bathe at the same time." Matthew let out a giggle at Alfred's logic.

"Ça suffit! [That's enough!]" Francis yelled. "I will bathe the pair of you together if I have to. It will be just like when you were younglings."

"We aren't babies anymore!" Alfred yelled back.

"You sure are acting like it!" Francis fired back.

The drive home seemed longer than it usually did to Francis. Eventually, they pulled up in front of their home. Francis told the twins once again to bathe and wait in their own rooms.

"Do you want to go first?" Matthew asked his brother as they climbed the stairway.

"No way!" Alfred answered. "Think about it, Mattie. If we stay covered in paint, there's no way Papa will spank us. He hates getting dirty."

"What if he does bathe us like we were little then?" Matthew timidly asked back.

"Man, he was just bluffing. He wouldn't really do that." Alfred almost laughed as he said that.

Matthew considered Alfred's words. Sure, not bathing right away might save them from an instant spanking, but eventually they would have to bathe, and eventually they'd get a spanking. "Ok, Alfie, but I'm going to go shower. I'd rather just get it over with."

Alfred's face fell as he realized his brother wouldn't be rebellious with him. "Fine." Alfred huffed.

Matthew was out of the shower in thirty minutes. He normally would've taken a shorter shower, but the paint had been difficult to get off.

Matthew passed by Alfred's room on his way to his. He stopped and poked his head in. "Alfie, the bathroom is free."

Alfred had put a towel over his desk chair and had been playing video games. "I told you, bro, I'm not gonna take a shower yet."

Alfred, after gazing at his brother, restarted his game. "Wanna play too?"

Matthew's interest peaked up. "Okay." Matthew took a seat next to Alfred as Alfred handed him a second controller.

An hour had passed before Francis decided to check on the twins. He had already informed Arthur about what transpired at the school house earlier. Arthur was irritated to say the least. They both agreed to spank them for their crime. Arthur was also going to make every attempt to be able to leave early from his job. He knew how exhausting it was for just one parent to be home with the twins.

Arthur, Francis, Alfred and Matthew had an interesting start to their family. Arthur decided to adopt Alfred and raise him as a single father, much the same as Matthew had been adopted by Francis. Arthur had found Alfred through an adoption agency in England. Alfred, like Matthew, had been abandoned at the agency. Neither knew of their parents or why they were abandoned. Francis had found little Matthew at an adoption agency in France. Both Arthur and Francis immigrated to the United States when the children were still young. In a rare chain of events, Alfred and Matthew had found each other. It was clear to everyone around that Matthew and Alfred must have been identical twins, separated at birth, and a DNA test confirmed it. Knowing that they couldn't split up the twins, Arthur and Francis agreed to parent them together. Their relationship, though rocky, slowly built up to a loving couple and they decided to get married three years ago. Despite their co-parenting, Matthew tended to be closer to Francis, just as Alfred leaned toward Arthur more.

When Francis got to Alfred's room, he listened at the doorway for a few seconds before entering. He heard the sounds of Alfred and Matthew playing a video game while giggling. He took in a deep breath before entering. The phone call to his husband earlier had helped calm him down, but now that frustration was building back up. As soon as he saw that Alfred was still in the same messy state that he last saw him in, he couldn't help but yell at the two. "What do you think you're doing?"

Alfred immediately paused their game and stared in shock at Francis. Matthew was biting his lip as he tried to look anywhere else, but his father. Neither spoke.

Francis and Arthur vowed that they would never punish their children in anger. If it had ever gotten to that point, then they would remove themselves from the situation and either let the other one handle it, or wait till they had calmed again. Francis was worried he might break that vow today. "Alfred, why are you still filthy? I told you to shower almost two hours ago!" Alfred didn't have a response back. He just glared at Francis. He didn't want to shower. "Go shower!"

"I don't want to!" Alfred yelled defiantly back.

"It wasn't a request." Francis lowed his voice to a dangerous tone that begged Alfred to disagree.

"No." Alfred tossed his controller and began pouting. Out of the two, Alfred was always more prone to throw tantrums than Matthew. Francis and Arthur were used to it, although they didn't put up with it.

Francis made a beeline at the boy. He quickly scooped Alfred up from his chair, ignoring the paint that was staining his clothing. Alfred, knowing that he was about to get a spanking, thrashed about, kicking and fighting to get out of Francis' grip. Francis, after some struggles, was able to lock Alfred down, bending him slightly over his bent knee. Francis swatted Alfred until his fighting died down. It had only taken a dozen swats to reign the boy in. After that, Francis released his grip and allowed Alfred to right himself. "Go take a shower, now!" Francis shoved Alfred towards the bedroom door. "Shower now, or I will give you a bath." Francis threatened.

Alfred's ears burned at the threat. He hated being treated like a baby. "I can bathe myself you jerk!" For some reason, instead of just saying this to Francis, Alfred had balled his fists and had punctuated his statement with a punch to Francis' gut.

Everyone in the room instantly gasped as Francis gripped his stomach. It hadn't hurt all that much, but the fact that Alfred had done it was shocking. Alfred felt ashamed of what he had done and ran as fast as he could into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and decided to take the longest shower of his life.

Francis didn't want to take out his anger of Alfred out on Matthew. He told his son to wait in his room, facing the corner. Matthew hurried out of the room obediently.

* * *

When Francis called Arthur the second time, Arthur cancelled all of his meetings for the rest of the day and left the office. He told Francis he'd be there to help with the twins. It had only taken him half an hour to get back home. Arthur was thankful he didn't have to deal with rush hour traffic.

Arthur found Francis in the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine. "Long day?" Arthur jokingly asked as he wrapped his arms around his husband's neck and kissed his cheek. Instead of answering his husband, Francis spewed his thoughts in French. Arthur only knew so much of the language, but not enough to understand what his husband was saying. Arthur could atleast discern that Francis was on an angry rant. "Whoa now!" Arthur stopped him mid rant. "You're going to have to repeat that in English, if you want me to understand you."

"Or you could learn French, mon cher." Francis finally spoke in English. Arthur just grinned at him. Francis sighed. He scooped up the smaller man and set him on the kitchen counter, careful to not spill his wine. Francis buried his head in the nook of Arthur's shoulder and neck. "Oui. It's been a very long day."

Arthur continued holding Francis as he listened once again to the events of the day. By the end of the story, Francis had calm down significantly. He wasn't exactly sure if it was due to his exhaustion or the wine that calmed his nerves. Either way, he felt up to finally dealing with Matthew, who he left standing in the corner for little over an hour now. Arthur had agreed to come up with him and support him in however Francis chose to handle his discipline.

Inside Matthew's room, Matthew was still facing the wall as he was directed. Matthew had always been the more obedient twin, whereas Alfred always pushed as many buttons as he could get away with pushing.

"Mathieu, come." Francis led Matthew to his side. Francis took a seat on his bed and placed Matthew directly in front of him so they could be at eye level. Francis now saw that Matthew's eyes were red and puffy from crying. "Why are you crying, mon petit garçon?"

"Je ne suis pas petit garçon. [I'm not a little boy.]" Matthew mumbled his reply.

"Non." Francis shook his head in agreement. Francis continued to speak French to Matthew as he explained to him that he was no longer a child, but he was still young. Arthur sat on Matthew's desk and marvelled at the way in which Francis spoke just as softly as Matthew spoke. Arthur always wondered if it was Matthew who taught Francis to speak quietly around him or if it was Francis who encourage the boy to be so quiet.

After Francis was able to say something that put a small smile on Matthew's face, Francis knew he could continue on with why he was in there. He didn't want his son to fear him, but he also wasn't going to let the child go without having consequences for poor behaviour. "Okay, let's get this over with then." Francis finally broke their previous conversation and patted his knee. Matthew knew what his father had meant by the gesture.

Matthew gave a look of pleading. He was hoping his father wouldn't actually go through with anything. "But…" Matthew quietly stuttered out. "But… I thought…" Matthew turned around and pointed toward the corner he had just been standing in. He was trying to ask why he was getting a spanking and if the other punishment had been enough.

"Non." Francis said shortly. "Corner time was because you were in Alfred's room playing video games when you knew better than that."

Matthew pouted his lip and stomped his foot into the ground.

"None of that, Matthew." Arthur had finally spoken up. Matthew hadn't even realized he had an audience until Arthur spoke. Suddenly, Matthew felt ashamed of his previous behaviour.

"Sorry." Matthew said in the smallest of voices.

Francis gave him a smile, but again patted his knee. Matthew obeyed this time. Francis gave a silent 'thank you' to Arthur for getting Matthew to participate without a fuss.

Once Matthew was securely over his father's knee, Francis tugged down Matthew's pants and underwear. Matthew let out a groan. He hated getting spankings on his bare, but it was the only way Francis ever spanked him. Arthur sometimes allowed the boys to keep their cloths on, but anything more than a few swats and Francis required them to be bare.

"I am disappointed in your behaviour today." Francis said as he brought his hand smartly down. Matthew sucked in a quick breath to avoid busting out into tears already. He knew his punishment would not be ending any time soon. After the fifth swat fell, Matthew kicked his legs. Francis re-adjusted himself to secure Matthew's legs down. Right before he started spanking again, Francis turned toward Arthur. "Arthur, can you please grab a wooden spoon from the kitchen. I meant to bring one with me."

"Of course, darling." Arthur said as he hopped off the desk and went to the kitchen.

Hearing that he was going to be getting the wooden spoon, Matthew burst into fresh tears. "Papa! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what, Mathieu?" Francis asked as he picked up his pace spanking his son.

"Everything." Matthew cried out. "For not being in my room when I got out of the shower. For getting in trouble at school."

"Are you sorry for making Daddy and me miss work to babysit you and your brother today?" Francis asked. He could feel Matthew's bottom heat up quickly. It was also turning from a shade of light pink to a bright red. He knew with how hard he was spanking that he wouldn't have to drag this out for too much longer. Both Matthew and Francis wanted the spanking to end quickly.

"Yes!"

"You and your brother are twelve. You shouldn't have to be watched all day every day, especially at school. You shouldn't be doing childish things like throwing paint at each other in class. You go to school to learn and become an adult. If I have to hold your hand and escort you to every class to make sure you are behaving, believe me I will do so." Francis ended his speech by tilting Matthew so his lower bottom and upper thighs where easier to reach.

Arthur had finally returned with the spoon. He set it down beside Francis. "I'm going to leave you two alone." Arthur said quiet enough for only Francis to hear. Matthew was too busy sobbing into his bedding to notice Arthur's return and departure.

Francis stopped spanking to pick up the spoon. "We are almost done. Twelve more. Twelve to remind you to act your age."

Matthew experienced a false sense of bravery as he convinced himself he could make it through the last twelve. He had forgotten about the spoon. When he felt the harshness of its impact, he bucked his hips and yelped. When it fell for a second and third swing, he thrashed about and begged his father to end his torment. Francis hardened his heart and ignored his son's pleas. By the eighth swat, Matthew resigned that his punishment would not end with his words. Matthew stopped squirming and buried his face in his blankets as he let his body go limp. He was bawling his eyes out as the last of the twelve strikes fell.

"Shhh… It's over, Mathieu." Francis cooed. Francis allowed Matthew to remain over his knees for a few minutes longer before he heard Matthew's ragged breath soften. Francis pulled Matthew up from over his knees and held him in a tight embrace. He stood with Matthew in his arms. While most parents, including Arthur, reframed from carrying their children past the age of six, Francis still hadn't tired from doing so. As he held his child, Francis muttered sweet things in French into Matthew's ear.

They stayed like that until Matthew's sobs died down to sniffles. Francis laid Matthew down in his bed and tossed his hair. He planted a kiss to Matthew's forehead. "Why don't you take a nap? I'll wake you for dinner." Matthew was going to protest, but he suddenly let out a yawn. "Je t'aime, mon petit garçon."

* * *

Alfred had been in the shower for over two hours. He had finished scrubbing off all the paint after 45 minutes. Matthew had been right about it taking forever to get it all off. Alfred still wasn't ready to face his Papa when he was done washing, so instead, he dried himself off and sat on the floor of the bathroom, keeping the shower running. He hated the thought of wasting the water, but at the moment, it was better than the alternative. While he was lost in thought, he was able to make out the sounds of his brother crying from his spanking. He really didn't want to suffer the same consequences, but he knew he couldn't hide forever in the bathroom.

The only thing worse to Alfred than a spanking is waiting for said spanking. He finally resigned himself to get out of the bathroom. He carefully and quietly made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom, checking the corners before turning. He was hoping that his Papa would be too busy dealing with Matthew to notice the shower had been turned off. He figured by the sounds of the spanking coming to an end, that he would have a good twenty minutes before Francis would come looking for him. Alfred felt incredibly guilty for punching Francis earlier. He didn't know what overcame him. He hoped when all was said and done that his Papa wouldn't hate him and they could go back to normal.

Alfred quietly turned the nob to his bedroom door and peered inside before entering. He was surprised to see that his room was not empty. On his bed, sat his Daddy, Arthur. Next to Arthur, on the bed, was the dreaded cane. Arthur's cane was something that both boys feared, but had never experienced firsthand. Arthur had only ever threatened to use the implement if the boys continued behaving naughty. As soon as the word was brought up, Alfred and Matthew would turn into perfect angels, atleast for a little while. For a while, the twins theorized that Arthur exaggerated the tales from his childhood about being struck by the object, but Arthur had his older brother send him one from Scotland a few years ago. After showing them it was real, Arthur kept it tucked away in his closet.

Alfred paused at the door. He debated about how far away he could get if he ran from the house now. "Come on in, Alfred." Arthur called calmly. This broke Alfred out of his trance. Alfred moved only as far into the room as would count as him being 'in the room.' Arthur sighed before standing up. "Alfred, come here." As he said that, he was already making his way toward his wayward son. Once he got close enough, Arthur grabbed a hold of Alfred's upper arm and pulled him towards the bed. Alfred was as stunned as a deer in the headlights and couldn't take his eyes off the cane.

When Arthur pulled Alfred over the bed, face down and rear in the perfect spot, Alfred regained his thoughts. "Wait! What are you doing? Aren't we going to like talk or something first?" Alfred wanted to sound older, but his voice betrayed him and he sounded like a whining toddler instead.

"Oh, we are going to talk. But first I think my cane has something to say." Arthur held Alfred down firmly and started tugging at his pants to lower them and his underwear.

"No! Please, Daddy! I'll be good! I promise!" When his promises went ignored, Alfred resorted to struggling to get away as best he could.

Arthur, at this point, felt no remorse for his young child. He had felt the sting of the cane too many times to count throughout his childhood. He never actually wanted to use it on his own children, but he did enjoy how much the mere threat of the cane caused his children to be on their best behaviour. This time it was different. Alfred had more than earned this punishment. Arthur knew it was going to suck, but he also knew that Alfred would survive, just like he had.

Arthur tapped the cane to Alfred's backside to gauge his target. Alfred still held onto the false hope that his father was only using this as another threat and he was going to put it away any second now. Alfred's hopes were crushed when Arthur brought the cane down with a sharp swoosh. The cane created a line on Alfred's backside that was akin to stroke of fire. Alfred broke after the first stoke. He screamed out in pain. Arthur had to take a second to compose himself after hearing Alfred make that terrible sound. It took everything in him to not break the cane in half and scoop up his baby and apologize for hurting him. Arthur's mother had used this thing on him and never even flinched. It probably didn't help that Arthur was the youngest of five head strong brothers that were always creating mischief. 'It must be because it's my first time using it.' Arthur thought to himself.

The second stroke had taken a minute to fall, but eventually Arthur steeled his heart enough to get through his guilt. The second line fell just shy of where the last one had fallen. It reignited the fire from the first sting, while creating a new line. Alfred screamed just as loud as he had the first time. His face was already pouring tears.

Alfred turned to look behind him, only to see Arthur bringing the cane down for the third stroke. Once again, Alfred wailed. "Stop! Daddy! It hurts! Please! I'm sorry!"

"It's supposed to hurt, Alfred. It's supposed to make you feel sorry." Arthur admonished.

"But…" Alfred was having a hard time speaking through his tears and sobs.

Arthur let the fourth and fifth stokes fall as Alfred tried to regain his voice. "It hurts, Daddy!" Alfred was now hiccupping through his tears. Arthur bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep his own emotions at bay. He had never found it hard to punish Alfred until this moment. Arthur finally got the meaning behind the saying, 'this hurts me more than it hurts you'.

After the sixth swat, Alfred tried to change up his tactics. "Papa! Help me, Papa! I'm sorry! Papa!"

This truly was breaking Arthur's heart. He wasn't sure if he could continue to dole out the full dozen strokes. Arthur thought about Alfred's transgressions and if he was doing the right thing by being so harsh. He thought about the look on his husband's face when Arthur had come home from work early. Francis looked so defeated. Arthur thought about what his own mother would have done if he had acted that way toward her. Arthur knew that if it had been himself, he would be lucky to only walk away with a dozen strokes. With that thought in mind, Arthur applied the next three strokes in rapid succession. He wanted this punishment to be over with already. "Only three more, then we are done."

This caused Alfred to scream more. He was kicking and thrashing as much as he could on the bed. Arthur didn't let the last three land with nearly as much force as the nine before them. After the last one was applied, Arthur exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding. "It's over, Alfred."

Alfred was quiet now as he cried into his bed. Normally, he wanted nothing more than his Daddy to pick him up and cuddle with him after a spanking, but this was different. When Arthur moved to replace Alfred's clothing and pick up the crying child, Alfred bat his hands away. "None of that, now." Arthur scolded. "Come here, Alfred."

"No." Alfred mumbled.

Arthur ignored him. Arthur needed the post-punishment cuddles just as much as Alfred did. Arthur was successful at replacing Alfred's clothing, but as Arthur put his arms under the child and wrestled with him to get him to sit on his lap, Alfred made every effort to push away from Arthur. "No! I hate you!"

Suddenly, Arthur's world came crashing down. He stilled his body. Alfred climbed off his lap and moved to the other side of the room. Arthur had never expected to hear that from someone he cared about more than life itself. Not knowing what to do in that situation, Arthur moved on instinct as he removed himself from the bed and briskly grabbed Alfred's upper arm. Arthur dragged Alfred from the room and down the stairs. As he got to the study, Arthur placed Alfred in the corner. "Stay here. Don't you dare come out until I say so or we will repeat that last lesson with the cane."

Arthur knew he was being overly harsh now. He had no intention of ever picking up that cane again, unless it was for the purpose of burning it. He had only said that as a means of keeping Alfred tethered to the corner. Alfred just let out another wail, but didn't dare move from where he was.

* * *

 _I hate you_.

Arthur rehashed the words in his head for the hundredth time as he sipped his tea.

 _I hate you_.

A heavy sigh filtered from his lips. Did he really mean it? Did his little Alfred really hate him? Arthur had tried his best to be a good parent to the twins. Had he failed? Maybe he had been too harsh.

Alfred's sniffling could still be heard in the house. Arthur listened to the ragged breath from his stool in the kitchen. For once, Arthur was at a loss. He really didn't know where to go from here.

Arthur had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Francis' approach. He only felt a gentle hand message his shoulders. Arthur craved the comfort that the other provided. He buried his face in Francis' palm.

"Is everything ok?" Francis questioned. Francis was aware that Arthur had just finished dealing with Alfred's tantrum, but normally Arthur wouldn't be this stressed out.

"I hate you." Arthur muttered in response. "I hate you." He repeated again. "Alfred said that to me."

Francis pulled his arm back in disbelief. "No?" Arthur answered by looking up at him with pleading eyes. Francis felt fury slip into his mind as he balled a fist. "Let me have a swing at him!" Francis started heading towards the door, but Arthur moved into his path to prevent him.

"No!" Arthur put his hands to Francis' chest. "Let him be."

"Non! I'll teach him some respect."

Arthur shook his head from side to side. "He's still upset. If you confront him now, you'll only rile him up more."

"I don't care about upsetting him. He upset you! And now I'm upset." Arthur held firm and did not let the Frenchman pass. "He needs to learn."

Arthur wanted to remain strong. Three little words couldn't be enough to hurt the man who had already lived such an extraordinary life, or could it. Arthur's emerald eyes filled with tears. Francis immediately grabbed Arthur and pulled him into a strong embrace. "I'm sorry, mon cher."

Arthur continued to cry as he was held. "He hates me, Francis. What do I do?"

Francis stayed cuddling the Englishman. He rubbed soothing circles in his back. "You know he doesn't mean it. Alfred is dramatic. He says things and does things without thinking of the consequences."

As much as Arthur knew that Francis was probably right, he could not convince himself. The words rang through his head over and over. Francis held onto Arthur for as long as he needed.

Arthur pushed away after what seemed like hours. He felt slightly embarrassed to have left tear streaks on his husband's shirt. "I have a pounding headache." Arthur whispered.

Francis put Arthur's face in his palms and kissed his forehead. "Why don't you lay down, mon amour?"

Arthur smiled shyly back. "Good idea."

"I'll come wake you up when dinner in cooked." Arthur left with a kiss planted on Francis' lips.

Arthur was wakened from his nap by tender kisses placed all over his body. It was one of his favourite things his husband liked to do. He moaned quietly as he stirred.

"Dinner's ready, mon cher." Francis sang to him.

Arthur hummed as he started to open his eyes. Another kiss was planted on his neck. He lent into the touch as it was a sensitive spot for him.

"How did you sleep?" Francis asked.

Arthur had to think for a second. "I guess it was a good nap. My headache is gone."

Francis picked up Arthur's hand and let his lips grace each finger. "That is good. As soon as you are up, we can go eat dinner with our children."

A growling noise came from Arthur's mouth. He was instantly reminded of the events of the day. He still didn't want to have to deal with a certain child of his. "I think Alfred can stand to go a night without a meal."

Francis immediately stopped what he was doing and became stern. "Arthur Kirkland! You know how I feel about starving children."

Arthur only rolled his eyes in response. "One meal hardly counts as starving the boy."

Francis' eye's narrowed. Arthur paid little mind until he suddenly felt his body being physically moved. Francis had turned Arthur's torso to face the bed and swatted at his backside several times.

Arthur quickly jerked his body up and away from the assaulting hand. He sat up in the bed, on his knees, to better protect himself. He felt revolted, but his emotions betrayed him and he began pouting. "What the bloody hell was that for?" Arthur let the whine escape his lips.

"Tsk, tsk." Francis only wagged his finger at him. "Naught little boys aren't the only ones that can get a spanking you know. Grumpy Englishmen can too."

"I'm not being grumpy." Arthur muttered. Francis had a look on his face that meant something like, 'oh really?' "I'm not. Alfred hurt me."

"I know, mon amour, but he is just a boy. We both know he didn't mean it." Arthur wanted to argue that maybe Alfred had meant it, but he was cut off. "Either way, the problem won't be solved if you both stubbornly ignore each other."

"It can wait till tomorrow." Arthur folded his arms over his chest in a representation that he would not cave on the issue.

"Fine." Francis agreed. Arthur was stunned that he gave in so easily. "But if Alfred isn't eating with us, then we will not eat."

Arthur's face fell. He had skipped lunch to come home early and his stomach had already been gargling. "Fine. You win." He eventually spat out. "But you will come with me."

"Oui." The Frenchman agreed.

Arthur could hear Alfred still sniffling down the hall as he made his way to the study. He needed to be strong to get through this moment. Francis stood beside him as he paused before making his entry. His strength and encouragement would help Arthur get through this.

"Alfred." Arthur called authoritatively, but calmly. "You can turn around now."

Alfred was slow to move. He had spent the past few hours wallowing in his own grief, until his thoughts shifted to that of guilt. He felt bad about the words he had chosen and the actions he took. He knew it was wrong, but at the time, he could not see beyond his own misfortune.

Arthur knelt in front of the child, in order to be at eye level. "This needs to be settled." Arthur was speaking to himself, as much as he was talking to Alfred. "Today, you have behaved very poorly. You must know by now that what happened was wrong. I hope you don't hold it against me that I punished you so harshly."

Alfred tried to formulate his thoughts into words, but the more he tried to think of something to say, the more he stumbled with sounding it out loud. Instead, Alfred dove onto his father in a tight embrace. He openly cried in his father's arms. Arthur was taken aback by the sudden surrender that Alfred gave. In his ear, Arthur heard Alfred cry apology after apology of his transgressions. Arthur hid his smile as he held onto his son.

"Alfred." Arthur called as he moved Alfred away from his body to get a better look at the boy's state. "Your words hurt. I need to know if you meant what you said. Do you really hate me?"

Alfred choked back his tears to answer honestly. "Daddy, I'm sorry I said that to you. I was just upset because I didn't think you'd ever use that thing on me. I hope you will forgive me." Alfred's deep blue eyes mirrored the tears that were building in them.

Feeling overwhelmingly relieved of tension, Arthur pulled Alfred back to his chest. "Of course I forgive you, Alfred. Just promise me you will choose your words with more considerations."

"I will, Daddy."

Francis moved from where he was standing to rest a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur looked up at him, grateful that the man had made him do this. Arthur then pulled Alfred away once more. "I'm not the only one you have to apologize to."

Alfred looked at him once more, before noticing that they weren't alone in the room. "Papa, I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't mean too. Really. I don't know why I did it."

Francis smiled at the young boy before picking him off the floor and holding him in an embrace, much the same as he had done to Matthew. Alfred giggled, as he was held. It wasn't often that Alfred would allow someone to hold him this way, so they were both grateful that this was one such occasion.

"I forgive you, mon petit garçon." Alfred may not have comprehended the phrase, but he knew it was a term of endearment that Francis called Matthew a lot. "Now let us all enjoy a nice supper."

Arthur couldn't agree more. Francis carried Alfred into the dining room, while Arthur went to wake Matthew. At the very least, the entire family could be home for a meal together, for a change of pace.


End file.
